“The numbers speak for themselves,” Matt continued his presentation, clicking to the next slide. “Maxwell-Caine’s infrastructure in Asia means we can implement Phase One within six months. No delays, no learning curve.”
Howard Palmer—seventy years old and sharp as a tack—leaned forward, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses. “And the environmental impact studies?”
“Already completed.” Matt nodded to Porter, who glided forward with a stack of bound reports. “You’ll find everything in order, including projected carbon offsets and sustainable energy integration.”
Xavier’s fingers drummed against the table. “How convenient that you had all this ready to go.”
“Not convenience. Preparation.” Matt met Xavier’s glare coolly. “Something you might want to try sometime.”
Charles Montgomery, CEO of Desert Sun Holdings, cleared his throat. “The sustainability angle is impressive, Matt. But Xavier’s proposal?—”
“Is theoretical at best,” Howard cut in. “My father built Palmer Industries on solid ground, not maybes and could-bes.” He turned to Xavier. “Son, your tech innovations are remarkable, but this project needs established channels.”
“Established?” Xavier’s laugh was sharp as broken glass. “You mean old. Outdated. Matt’s playing it safe because he’s terrified of real innovation.”
“Says the man who’s spent the last six months chasing my deals instead of creating his own.” Matt’s voice stayed even, but his eyes hardened. “Tell me, Xavier, how many of your ‘innovations’ actually made it past the planning stage?”
The room temperature seemed to drop ten degrees.
“So we’re all in agreement?” Matt addressed the table at large. “The Palmer Project proceeds under Maxwell-Caine management.”
Xavier’s jaw tightened so hard Matt could practically hear teeth crack. Across the table, Howard nodded with obvious approval. “Your proposal shows vision, Matt. The kind of forward thinking we need. My father would have liked you.”
“Vision?” Xavier stood abruptly, his chair scraping back. “It’s robbery dressed up in a fancy PowerPoint. You’re effectively muscling me out of?—”
“Out of what, exactly?” Matt gathered his papers with deliberate calm. “A project you had no stake in until you heard I was interested?” He smiled, all teeth. “That’s not vision, Xavier. That’s just poor strategy.”
The other executives shifted uncomfortably. Charles Montgomery suddenly found his cuff links fascinating. The tension crackled like static before a storm.
“Perhaps,” drawled Marcus Wei from Hong Kong First Bank, “we should take a brief recess?”
“No need.” Matt stood, buttoning his jacket. “We’re done here. Gentlemen, thank you for your time. Porter, please ensure everyone has copies of the final projections.”
“Of course, sir.” Porter’s voice was soft, almost reverent.
One by one, they filed out. Howard Palmer paused to shake Matt’s hand. “Well played, son. You’ve built something remarkable here.”
“Thank you, sir. That means a lot.”
Xavier was last to leave, lingering in the doorway. His knuckles were white around his briefcase handle. “This isn’t over, Matthew. You can’t keep blocking my every move in Vegas.”
“I don’t block you, Xavier. You do that to yourself by chasing what’s mine.” Matt’s smile was razor-sharp. “You started this game, remember?”
“Because you wouldn’t even consider?—”
“Careful.” Matt’s voice dropped low, dangerous. “Some things aren’t for sale or negotiation. Never were, never will be.”
Xavier’s laugh was bitter. “He’s not a child anymore, Matthew. You can’t keep playing protective big brother forever.” His smile turned sly. “He was quite… entertaining at the conference dinner a few weeks ago, wasn’t he? So determined to protect his big brother. So deliciously fierce.”
Matt’s jaw clenched. The image of Ryan trying to run interference, practically throwing himself between Matt and Xavier flashed through his mind. His brother, so loyal yet completely blind to Xavier’s real interest.
“You played him.” It wasn’t a question. “The dismissive attitude, making it about business. You knew exactly how he’d react.”
“Of course I did.” Xavier straightened his tie, looking pleased with himself. “Ryan’s always been predictable that way when it comes to you. So protective. Just like back at MIT, showing up in his school uniform, ready to fight anyone who looked at you wrong.” His eyes softened at the memory. “Some things never change.”
“Try it.” Matt’s phone buzzed—a text from Andy. “See how that works out for you. Like everything else you’ve attempted lately.”
“One day, your walls will crack.” Xavier’s composure was perfect, but his eyes burned with intensity. “And when they do, I’ll be there. After all…” His smile turned predatory. “Ryan’s not that wide-eyed schoolboy anymore, is he? No more hiding behind big brother’s reputation.”
